


We are all a little lost here

by cian1675



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Architecture students AU, Aromantic Character, Friendship/Love, Gen, Questioning, Slice of Life, dreams and faded passions, not sure which way it'll go yet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-30
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-11-21 08:42:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11353902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cian1675/pseuds/cian1675
Summary: Amidst impossible deadlines, barely-there-to-start-with-and-now-quickly-dying passion for architecture, Kyungsoo and Jongdae fumble, tumble and stumble through architecture school while navigating other things they come to learn of themselves.





	1. Loss. Lost.

University is supposedly a time for self-discovery. Parties and festivals with too much soju sponsored by the school, casual flings with kisses stolen right before dormitory curfews and drunken hookups with experimental sex. Kyungsoo does none of those. He doesn’t have time, not when he’s in architecture school, with tutors who joke that architecture is a demanding mistress.

(It’ll be funny if it’s a joke, except it’s not.)

Still, considering he doesn’t really drink, it’s not much of a loss. Though, maybe he should in a time like this, Kyungsoo thinks as he woodenly huddles up for another night in the studio, lying on the table surrounding by his scattered sketches and falling paper models. Soju right now might be nice, even if it burns his throat. Hugs and kisses would be nicer still.

(Nicer, if he can find someone up to it, which seems impossibly hard now that his girlfriend has just dumped him. Over text.)

He tries not to dwell on that, instead wishing that he hadn’t missed curfew while being too engrossed in design because it’ll be nice to let his tears fall onto his pillow in bed instead of the empty space between his arm and the table.

 

 

 

“Hey, can I have a little space here? I’m a new intern, they told me to share this desk with you until they find one for me because there’s no spare right now.”

The guy hovering by his desk has his face backlit, and Kyungsoo squints a little at him, before scooting his chair to the side. He quickly pushes his things to a corner of his already messy table so the new guy can put down his office-issued laptop.

“Thanks,” the new guy says. His lips curl up in the corners; Kyungsoo can’t tell if he’s smiling or if that’s his usual expression. “I’m Kim Jongdae, by the way.”

“Do Kyungsoo,” Kyungsoo quietly says, before adding, “Intern as well,” in case Jongdae thinks he’s a full time staff.

“Nice to meet you,” Jongdae smiles, easing into the little space Kyungsoo’s made for him in the cramped office with a borrowed chair from the next desk. Kyungsoo mumbles the same, as politely as he can, before turning to his laptop so he won’t have to make any more small talk.

 

 

 

The architecture office Kyungsoo’s interning at is a pretty sizeable one; he chose it because it actually pays interns. Still, despite that, they never quite manage to find a proper desk for Jongdae, and a month in, Kyungsoo finds himself slowly getting to know his new desk mate (who’s really not so new anymore).

“I can’t believe you’re actually a year under me in the same university,” Jongdae says during lunch. Kyungsoo shrugs. He doesn’t know if Jongdae’s point is about him being younger or that they’re from the same university so he just eats his jjigae wordlessly. Normally he would avoid lunch with coworkers, intern or not, preferring to spend his break alone, but he has the same lunchbreak as Jongdae and it’s awkward to disappear on him when he knows they’ll both be heading to the same cafeteria afterwards. So Kyungsoo’s taken to having lunch with Jongdae, and Jongdae’s a decent enough lunch buddy, never commenting on Kyungsoo’s short replies, merely continues the conversation. It could be worse. They eat their lunch in mostly silence afterwards, until Jongdae finishes his soup and starts talking again.

“So, now that I think of it, I’ve never asked you: why did you intern here? It’s not the most prestigious place to be, you know.”

Kyungsoo gives him a droll look. “Says the one who’s interning at the same not-that-prestigious firm.”

Jongdae laughs. “I’m not here to pad my resume. I’m just trying to earn money for the summer.”

Kyungsoo finishes up the last of his lunch, wiping his mouth before saying, “What makes you think I’m padding my resume?”

Now it’s Jongdae who shrugs. “Dunno. I assume that’s what most people do.”

Kyungsoo blinks, stares at Jongdae for a moment, before carefully saying, “If I want to pad my resume, I’ll be in Japan, working for free at Shigeru Ban’s office while spending my own money trying to pay for airfare, rent _and_ instant food.”

Jongdae holds his gaze, and Kyungsoo almost forgets how it feels, to have someone really look at him instead of turning away because his gaze is “kind of scary”. After a while, Jongdae lets out a small laugh. “You’re one of those, aren’t you?”

“One of what?” Kyungsoo asks.

“People with principles,” Jongdae says, and leaves it at that, standing up with his tray, heading for the tray return counter. Kyungsoo wants to tell him, no, that’s not really what he is, he’s just a broke-ass architecture student who doesn’t want to be exploited in the name of gaining more experience, but Jongdae’s already gone and Kyungsoo doesn’t feel like explaining himself, so he holds his tongue and picks up his tray.

 

 

 

Despite having a decent enough work relationship over the three months of summer internship, Kyungsoo doesn’t exactly expect anything once their contracts are up, least of all Jongdae popping by third year studio to say hi to him on the first day of school.

“Hi,” Kyungsoo replies dumbly, still a little surprised that Jongdae’s here. “Don’t you have studio?”

Jongdae stretches, arms above his head, knocking his snapback a little loose. Kyungsoo’s only ever seen him in dress shirt and slacks. He’s not sure what to think of Jongdae’s medium blue sweater with the sleeves rolled up and tan bermudas that end just above the knees, a little too much exposure for Kyungsoo’s taste.

“Studio ended early,” Jongdae says, adjusting his snapback. Kyungsoo wonders if he’s sweltering in the sweater. It’s still mostly summer, even if the season’s coming to an end. Kyungsoo’s own tee is long sleeved, but at least it’s thin cotton.

“Oh,” is all Kyungsoo says.

“Anyway,” Jongdae continues, already used to Kyungsoo’s reticence, “I’m just wasting time until my ride comes.”

Kyungsoo doesn’t take offence at the bit about wasting time, figures it’s Jongdae’s way of giving him an out if he wants him to leave. Kyungsoo doesn’t take it. Instead, he chats to Jongdae, talking about his day, how the first project for studio is, predictably, boring and tedious, and Jongdae shares that his newest assignment is crap too.

“You’d think they’ll give higher years better project briefs but I swear all they want us to do is play with parametric software to create the most complicated, organically-shaped design possible while passing it off as something worthy.”

The way Jongdae says it, an air of indignance about him, Kyungsoo almost wants to say, “So, you’re one of those too huh? People with principles,” except he doesn’t get to, because just then, a girl comes in, all wrinkled nose and tottering heels weaving across the spare model materials scattered on the floor.

“Dae, what _is_ this mess? And can’t you answer your phone so I wouldn’t have to come up here to find you? I had to ask so many people before I found my way in.”

The way Jongdae says, “Sorry babe, I left my phone upstairs,” with a cooing voice should be clue enough that Jongdae’s ride is probably his girlfriend, though Jongdae’s hand coming to rest on the small of her back as he leads her out of Kyungsoo’s studio would have filled Kyungsoo in even if he didn’t notice the earlier change in tone. Kyungsoo waves a half-hearted bye to Jongdae, a strange weight settling in his chest.

(She used to hate coming to studio to find Kyungsoo too, dismayed by the state of creative mess even if she never voiced it out quite as loudly as Jongdae’s girlfriend.)

 

 

 

For some reason, Jongdae’s taken to finding Kyungsoo after studios on Tuesdays if he ends early, which is almost always, and Kyungsoo eventually gets used to it. Jongdae never stays long anyway, always just whiling time with mindless chitchat until his ride comes. Except today, Kyungsoo’s actually already done packing and Jongdae’s still here, seated on his table.

“No ride today?”

“Nope,” Jongdae says, and it sounds normal, until his eyes turn serious for a moment. “We broke up.”

Oh. Kyungsoo doesn’t know what to say to that, so he tries for a comforting pat on Jongdae’s shoulder. It comes out more awkward than comforting, and Jongdae laughs though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“It’s okay. I’m alright.”

Kyungsoo doesn’t really believe him, but he lets it drop. Then, he surprises both Jongdae and himself by asking, “Well, do you want to get dinner together then?”

 

 

 

Dinner with Jongdae isn’t really different from lunch with him back when they interned – cheap food accompanied by periods of silence when they both just eat without conversing – except Kyungsoo finds himself doing what Jongdae had done before, trying to talk to someone who gives short replies while preventing the conversation from falling flat. He’s suddenly very grateful to Jongdae for doing it all this while.

“What do you do outside of archi?” Kyungsoo asks. He knows not to bring up the breakup, and given how architecture isn’t exactly a safe topic when Kyungsoo suspects that _that_ might at least partly be a reason for Jongdae’s breakup, he’s trying his best to find something else to talk about.

(It seems, despite their months long acquaintance-bordering-on-friendship, Kyungsoo’s never really talked about something not related to architecture school or the architecture industry with Jongdae.)

Jongdae stares at his half-eaten bowl of rice for a while, before he says, “I used to draw.”

“Oh? What did you draw?”

Jongdae sinks his chopsticks into his rice straight in, then lets go. Kyungsoo watches him watch the chopsticks fall slowly in the sinking mound of rice, and it’s only when they land with a clatter to the table does Jongdae say, “I used to want to go to art school.”

Kyungsoo blinks slowly, trying to make sense of the answer. “So you… painted and did all the traditional art stuff?”

Jongdae shrugs. “Yeah. Used to.”

It doesn’t escape Kyungsoo’s notice that Jongdae emphasized _used to_ repeatedly. “So you don’t do it anymore?”

Jongdae picks up his chopsticks, arranges them neatly back on the table with his previously crooked spoon.

“No. I just kind of lost the interest.”

The corners of Jongdae’s lips are curled still, but they look kind of sardonic. Bitter. Kyungsoo thinks of his own butter paper sketches, the number of sheets drawn per semester dwindling even as the design brief gets harder; his carefully kept notes in first year, the stack occupying at least thrice the amount of space as his previous semester’s and how his folder is barely even full this semester when they’re already halfway through the lectures. He offers a pat to Jongdae’s shoulder, too brief to be comforting but not long enough to get awkward. It’s the best he can do.

“I’ll get the bill this time.”

 

 

 

It’s Tuesday again, Jongdae appears in his studio like nothing’s changed. Kyungsoo’s oddly relieved even if he’s not sure what to say. He wasn’t sure if Jongdae would drop by anymore. After all, he no longer has a ride to be waiting for. Jongdae sits around, talks like nothing’s wrong, until eventually he says, “You can ask me about her if you want to. I’m really okay.”

Kyungsoo’s eyebrow raises before he realises what he’s doing. Jongdae lets out a soft chuckle.

“I meant, I’m okay with you asking, not that I’m fully okay about it. The break up.” He waves a hand like the softly spoken last few words hadn’t just caused him to grimace.

“She’s not from our department,” is what Kyungsoo says, phrased like a question even though it’s mostly a statement.

“She isn’t,” Jongdae confirms. “Why?”

Nothing, Kyungsoo wants to say, but that’ll be defensive, and to be defensive means he’s taking it personally when this isn’t about him. Instead he just says, “She was wearing heels in studio.” A pause, and then, “She was also complaining about the mess. That’s how I knew she wasn’t from archi.”

Jongdae’s head tilts to the side. “Do-lock Holmes,” he mutters, mock-seriously. Kyungsoo gives him a pointed glare, but Jongdae doesn’t flinch, just says, “How about dinner on me today?”

 

 

 

The diners near school turn out to be too full, and they’re too broke to afford the other places. Kyungsoo’s wondering if they should ditch the idea of dinner when Jongdae suggest buying takeout.

“There’s nowhere to eat it though,” Kyungsoo says. He’s hesitant to offer his dorm room, half because his roommate is a clean freak, and half because he’s not sure if they’re at that level of friendship yet.

(She did always say he had ridiculous standards for what makes a friend.)

Jongdae looks around, hands coming to rest in his hoodie pockets. “How about my place?”

“Yours? Isn’t it far?”

“Nah, it’s just two blocks from here,” Jongdae says. He must have seen something on Kyungsoo’s face, because he adds, “Why? Did you think it was going to be far?”

“I assumed it was since you always had a ride before,” Kyungsoo mumbles quietly, before heading for the takeout queue of his usual diner.

Jongdae catches up to him easily. He stands next to Kyungsoo, quietly humming. They don’t say anything the whole time, even after Kyungsoo picks up their plastic bags of food and even after Jongdae starts leading the way back to his place. Kyungsoo’s tempted to tell him about his ex-girlfriend, how she liked him until she realised Kyungsoo spends more time in the studio than with her, how she wanted more of his time but never told him, instead passive-aggressively hating everything he did that wasn’t related to her, and how eventually she was the one to break up with him in a short clipped text message sent at an ungodly hour in the morning.

_Still up? Probably, given how you’re always in studio. Anyway, we’re done. Goodbye._

(Kyungsoo remembers the message by heart; hadn’t quite managed to convince himself to delete it even though he doesn’t like to look at it.)

He’s tempted to tell Jongdae all these, spill things he hadn’t even told Minseok despite Minseok being his roommate for three years now and most definitely his friend. Instead, Kyungsoo keeps his mouth shut.

 

 

 

Jongdae finds his sketchbook one day while Kyungsoo’s in the toilet, and Kyungsoo returns to studio to find Jongdae casually flipping through the pages like it’s not some violation of privacy. He snaps the sketchbook shut, and Jongdae raises his hands up in defense.

“Sorry,” he says, but it’s a little too smug to be sincere.

“Shouldn’t have opened it to begin with,” Kyungsoo snaps, then collects himself. He takes a deep breath, flips through the earlier pages to check if Jongdae’s seen anything he shouldn’t. It’s mostly sketches from site visits and doodles from when he’s bored, nothing much. Kyungsoo’s almost ready to forgive him for the transgression, especially after Jongdae offers to pay for dinner again. Over dinner, in the diner this time, Kyungsoo even manages to take Jongdae’s jab about how his doodles are obviously “manga style” – so he’s a Prince of Tennis fan, so sue him. They talk about drawing for a while, and Kyungsoo finds out Jongdae is surprisingly unsnobbish of manga-style drawings despite his traditional art background.

“Why didn’t you tell me you draw too, when I mentioned I used to draw?” Jongdae asks as he takes his wallet out to count the bills.

“Didn’t think this was worthy of being mentioned,” Kyungsoo says, matter of fact. He’s never had proper art training, and architecture school hadn’t taught him how to do technical drawing now that drawings have turned digital, so he can’t claim that either. He’s just a run-of-the-mill dude who draws casually sometimes. Jongdae doesn’t laugh at him when he quietly mentions it, hidden carefully within a rant about how architecture school doesn’t teach their students how to draw properly anymore.

“I wanted to be a mangaka once,” Kyungsoo accidentally says later, when Jongdae finally exits the diner after paying.

“How did that go?” Jongdae asks, rubbing his nose from the colder temperature outside. It’s already autumn, leaves turning red.

“Obviously it didn’t work out,” Kyungsoo mutters drily. He digs in his bag, tosses the tissue pack at Jongdae before his nose gets too red from all the rubbing. He doesn’t mention the stacks of unfinished pages of pencil sketches, some half-inked, all with childish stories only a fourteen year old could think up. He hasn’t thrown all of them out yet, they’re still collecting dust somewhere in his house, the house which he only visits during holidays and Chuseok now that he lives in a university dorm. They part ways to go home after that, but Kyungsoo gets a message from Jongdae later in the night.

_Is the mangaka thing the reason why you speak Japanese?_

He hadn’t even known Jongdae knew he speaks basic Japanese.

_Well, you did say something about interning at Shigeru Ban’s so I put two and two together. You’re not the only Sherlock Holmes._

Kyungsoo reads the message immediately, but only replies the next morning.

_Is Sherlock the only detective you know_

Jongdae’s reply comes barely a minute after.

_Sherlock huh. Not Holmes. Do you watch BBC?_

Kyungsoo doesn’t deign that with a reply.

 

 

 

Minseok packs up his things to move home once his exam – singular, yes, that lucky guy – is done, and Kyungsoo finds himself loitering at the fourth year studios after final crit. It takes a while before he spots Jongdae.

“Kyungsoo, hey.” Jongdae’s tone is cheery, but the bloodshot eyes and sallow complexion are dead giveaways of sleepless nights spent rushing for final presentation panels. Kyungsoo knows what that feels like. He’s pretty much dead on his feet right now as well, fueled only by the lingering adrenaline from having just finished his presentation and a hunger in his belly that comes from having skipped dinner two days in a row with only a sandwich in between.

“Hey. Is this your panel?” Kyungsoo peers at the board behind Jongdae, beautifully drawn plans and sections, perspectives done in watercolour instead of digitally rendered. They’re beautiful. Kyungsoo tells Jongdae that without thinking, and is surprised to find Jongdae turning away, cheeks slightly pink.

“Thanks,” Jongdae eventually says, and Kyungsoo’s momentarily distracted. The blush on his cheeks is fading but still there, dusted over his high cheekbones and even with eyebags and puffy eyes, Jongdae doesn’t look bad. It probably helps that he’s in a shirt that fits nicely across his shoulders, dress slacks that end stylishly over his ankles instead of his usual fare. Kyungsoo tugs at the collar of his own shirt, buttoned all the way up, suddenly a little uncomfortable. But then Jongdae looks at him, somewhat concerned, and Kyungsoo remembers why he had come here to begin with.

“Do you want to get a celebratory dinner or something? For finishing crit and all.”

Jongdae looks at him curiously. “I’m probably eating with my studio later.”

Right. Kyungsoo wants to smack himself now. Of course most people would go out for dinner with their studios. He’s probably one of the few that ditched his studio once he was done.

(She always wanted to see him after crit. Have dinner together. Cuddle. Said a week without him was too long, pouting like Kyungsoo wanted to actually spend his week in studio with no sleep and barely any food, buried under looming deadlines and malfunctioning mice overworked on Autocad.)

“It’s fine,” Kyungsoo gets out, already retreating. Maybe he’ll just make use of the extra space from Minseok not being in the room to leave his large pizza and pickles out if he gets delivery. For once, he doesn’t have to worry about clearing up once he was done eating because Minseok isn’t there. He doesn’t realise how far he’s already backpedaled until Jongdae reaches out to grab his arm.

“I… can go find you afterwards?”

Kyungsoo looks at him dumbly. “You need sleep.”

Jongdae frowns at him.

“I mean, you should go home and sleep after your studio dinner. It’s fine.”

Jongdae looks like he wants to say something, but in the end all he does is nod. Kyungsoo slips his wrist out from Jongdae’s fingers.

“Have fun.”

Later that night, Kyungsoo leaves his half eaten pizza on Minseok’s empty bed sans mattress (he’s not  _that_  terrible) because he can. Exhaustion pulls him into bed quickly afterwards and he’s not sure why there’s a curl of what feels like disappointment in his chest when he’s finally getting the sleep and food he’s missed the last few days. Maybe it’s the post-crit crash. He falls asleep before he can dwell on it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally wanted to do this as a oneshot, but I think I'm going to write this in three parts instead. I haven't decided how exactly I want Kyungsoo and Jongdae's friendship to go, whether it becomes anything more, though I do have the other passion/life bits of the story roughly thought out. I'll love to know what you think~


	2. Semblances of direction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Aromantic character" added as a tag from this chapter. The way the term aromantic is used by character(s) may not be the most suitable in some places, but they're new to the idea so yeah.

Winter holiday finds Kyungsoo in his hometown, a little too slow to finding an internship this time so he makes do with part-time jobs. He’s home from waiting tables when he finds Chanyeol in his living room, his mum in the kitchen.

“Haven’t seen you in a while,” Chanyeol says, and that’s all it takes for the years of easy camaraderie to come back.

“You grew taller,” Kyungsoo jokes, even though Chanyeol is seated and he can’t tell at all. Also, his joking tone is probably closer to deadpan than joking, but Chanyeol, childhood friend of more than a decade, already knows all this.

“Still as funny as ever, aren’t you,” Chanyeol says, a twinkle in his eye as he ruffles Kyungsoo’s hair before popping his head into the kitchen. “Auntie, can I borrow Kyungsoo for a while?”

 

 

 

The swing set at the playground near Kyungsoo’s house is too small for them. They sit on it anyway, knees pulled close to their chest, just barely able to get their feet off the ground to sway a little.

“How’s uni?” Kyungsoo asks, leaning back too far on the swing but he’s familiar enough with this to not fall.

“Same old. Anyway, that’s not– I have something to tell you.”

Kyungsoo turns to him, curious.

“I kind of just realised recently but uhm, I’m bi. Bisexual, if you didn’t understand what I mean. Like I like both guys and girls –“

“I know,” Kyungsoo says. It stops Chanyeol mid-sentence, mouth gaping. When he finally closes it, the first thing he says is –

“Wait. Why– How did you know?”

Kyungsoo shrugs. “You tried to kiss me on the lips when we were younger.”

Chanyeol splutters. “I… I thought you were asleep!”

“Well, now you know I wasn’t,” Kyungsoo remarks nonchalantly. Chanyeol’s eyes widen and it’ll be funny except Kyungsoo doesn’t think he should laugh so he just says, “Thank you for telling me.”

Chanyeol’s reply is muffled.

“Of course I would. You’re my best friend.”

His ears turn red after that. Kyungsoo teases him for it, just a little.

 

 

 

 _Maybe I’m actually pansexual, not bi_ , Chanyeol texts him a few days later. Kyungsoo doesn’t know the difference so he asks, only to get a message full of links to tumblr pages.

_Am I supposed to read this -_-_

Chanyeol replies with an excited _yep!_ and Kyungsoo grumbles, but finds himself reading it later that night anyway. He’s halfway through a page about different sexual orientations, when he gets a text.

_What are you doing?_

It’s Jongdae. Instead of answering directly, what Kyungsoo finds himself typing is:

_Did you know that greysexuality is a thing that exists_

Jongdae doesn’t reply for a while, so Kyungsoo goes back to reading, clicking on more links from the articles once he finishes going through Chanyeol’s list. When his eyes start hurting from reading too long without a break, Kyungsoo checks his phone again. There’s a new message from Jongdae.

_Have you heard of aromanticism?_

_No_ , Kyungsoo replies, but another hour of reading later, he finds himself wondering whether all his ex’s complaints about him never paying enough attention to her might suggest that he’s aromantic.

 

 

 

“I don’t think you’re aromantic,” Chanyeol says when Kyungsoo quietly mentions it over dinner. Kyungsoo sets his elbows on the table.

“Why?” He’s genuinely curious. The articles he had read seemed to fit him well enough, he liked her, but he hadn’t like her _like her_ , maybe.

(Maybe that was the problem, not architecture school.)

Chanyeol regards him thoughtfully. “You’ve liked people before. You were excited when Hyejung agreed to date you.”

He hasn’t heard her name aloud for a while; it feels a little weird, but not much else.

(Not painful, or an empty sinking weight settling in his stomach. It’s an improvement.)

Kyungsoo must have spent too long being quiet, because Chanyeol suddenly says, “Not that I’m trying to say you _can’t_ be aromantic but just, I don’t think you are? I could be wrong though.”

“Well, you probably know these terms better than I do,” Kyungsoo says eventually.

It’s not really an answer, but Chanyeol leaves it be.

“You can always read more about it if you want to know.”

 

 

 

Two weeks before fourth year starts, Kyungsoo gets a message from Jongdae.

_Are you in the dorms yet? Can I crash for a while? Wouldn’t want to bother you but the apartment I rented isn’t free until next Monday and they didn’t tell me earlier._

He’s in a midst of unpacking, the dorm’s a mess – luckily, Minseok’s not arriving until next week – but Kyungsoo figures Jongdae is probably somewhat desperate, so he texts:

_Yeah. I’m in dorm 4, call me when you reach the lobby, I’ll bring you up._

Jongdae’s _thanks, you’re a saviour_ comes ten seconds after, and Kyungsoo tosses his phone on the bed as he gets to unpacking and cleaning up.

 

 

 

Kyungsoo doesn’t expect that Jongdae would have only one backpack with him or that he would bring dinner, but the thing he least expects is for Jongdae to say, “I’m actually taking a gap year this year.”

“What?” Kyungsoo’s chopsticks pause on the way to his mouth. He doesn’t drop the mouthful of rice though it’s a close call. Gap year applications were probably towards the end of last semester. He’s not sure why Jongdae’s telling him now.

(Whether he means _only_ now, or why tell him _at all_ , he’s not sure. He’s not sure where he stands with Jongdae, if they’re close enough for him to be privy to such information or close enough that finding out only now should be insulting.)

Jongdae sits up straighter, scratches his nape sheepishly. “I’ve been thinking of doing it for a while. I don’t really know where I’m going with architecture, you know. Maybe a break would help.”

“Oh.” Kyungsoo chews on his rice, stalling for time to process. “What are you going to do with the break?” Then, after a thought, he adds, “Why are you still renting an apartment near school?”

“I haven’t decided what I’m doing with the break, that’s kind of why I ended up renting the same place once the holiday is over,” Jongdae answers. His words don’t falter, but Kyungsoo thinks he sees unease on Jongdae’s face anyway.

(He knows _he_ feels uneasy. Kyungsoo’s never even thought about the option of a gap year before.)

“Well,” Kyungsoo says eventually, “Maybe a break is what you need to find the passion you had when you entered architecture school.”

The words taste fake on his tongue when he has never thought breaks were a particularly good solution to anything, but this isn’t about him, it’s about Jongdae. That’s what Kyungsoo tells himself anyway. Jongdae laughs, the sound vaguely incredulous.

“Passion. Yeah. Right.”

Kyungsoo frowns slightly. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No.” Jongdae pinches the bridge of his nose, lets out a long exhale. “I guess it makes sense to assume that. ‘ _You won’t make it through architecture without passion!_ ’ Isn’t that what the school had always told us? The thing is, I never really wanted to go to architecture school to begin with, you know?”

No, Kyungsoo doesn’t know. He doesn’t comment though, just waits to see if Jongdae continues.

He does.

“I wanted to go to art school, but… I got scared. Everyone was telling me it wasn’t going to work, there wasn’t going to be profitable careers afterwards, and I just… chose architecture as the closest degree with a marketable skill to do. Isn’t that silly?”

Jongdae’s laugh is self-deprecating. The question he’d asked is probably rheotorical, but Kyungsoo finds himself answering anyway.

“No, it isn’t.”

Jongdae looks up sharply at that, and even Kyungsoo can tell that that’s a ‘ _you don’t understand’_ look on his face. So he takes a deep breath, leans his head against the wall so he doesn’t have to look at Jongdae when he says, “I don’t even know why I’m in architecture. I just crossed off all the things I didn’t want to do as a degree, and this was one of the few things left. It was either this or English. Though, maybe I should have chosen English, the course wouldn’t have been as grueling as this.”

He laughs a little; it sounds as bad as Jongdae’s. There’s more he can say, but Kyungsoo doesn’t want to make this a self-pity party (has already started making this a self-pity party) so he stops there. When he lowers his head to look at Jongdae again, the other is staring at his ankles. The silence isn’t their usual, filled with a kind of terseness that’s not quite tension. Eventually, Jongdae mutters, half-jokingly, “Maybe you should take a gap year too, think things through.”

Kyungsoo manages to get out a laugh. “Nah.” There’s not much point if he doesn’t know what he really wants to do.

(Hyejung had never understood why he worked so hard for something he’s not even passionate about. Kyungsoo’s not sure either. He wonders which is sillier, avoiding the thing you’re passionate about for something you don’t really care for, or caring too much about something you have no passion for.)

 

 

 

Kyungsoo’s lying in bed, tuning out the rustle of Jongdae getting comfortable on the floor when Jongdae asks quietly, “Did you ever look up aromanticism?”

It’s an unexpected topic. Kyungsoo glances briefly at Jongdae from the corner of his eye, a mere dark shadow spread starfish-style on the floor.

“Yeah, I did. Why?”

“No reason,” Jongdae replies. It’s said casually, _too_ casually, making Kyungsoo turn to his side so he can look at Jongdae. Unfortunately, all he sees is grey shadows against black ones instead of Jongdae’s expression, so he lies back on his back.

After a while, he hears himself say, “For a period of time, I thought I might be aromantic, but Chanyeol said I probably wasn’t.”

Jongdae’s the one who turns this time; Kyungsoo can hear the blankets shifting. There’s silence for a long time, then –

“So are you? Aro, I mean.”

Kyungsoo considers this, thinks back on the hours spent reading more tumblr pages and even some personal blogs of random aromantic strangers on the internet, comparing their experiences with his.

“No. No, I don’t think so.”

(He remembers the butterflies in his stomach when Hyejung had agreed to be his girlfriend just before university. And the various crushes he had had before that, the way his face had flushed whenever their eyes met.)

 _I probably just lost interest in Hyejung,_ is what Kyungsoo wants to say. But just because he’s slowly learning to stop blaming architecture school for their breakup, stopped trying to excuse himself for not loving her enough by (mis)using the aromantic label (Chanyeol would disapprove, probably) doesn’t mean he’s ready to share. So he doesn’t.

Jongdae is quiet and the silence goes on long enough that Kyungsoo thinks the conversation is over. His eyes are closing when Jongdae suddenly says –

“I’m aro. That’s why I broke up with my girlfriend.”

Kyungsoo’s eyes open again. He finds himself staring at the blank ceiling as he processes the words. It wasn’t because of archi then, he thinks.

(That had probably been him projecting.)

“How… how does that work exactly, if you’re aromantic?” Kyungsoo licks his lips, mouth suddenly dry. His tongue feels too thick in his mouth. “Girlfriends. Relationships.”

Jongdae laughs, the sound softly echoing. “That wasn’t a reaction I’d expected.”

Kyungsoo raises an eyebrow, well aware that no one’s able to see it. “What were you expecting?”

“I don’t know. Some sort of reaction, at least. You just went straight to asking me the logistics of how aro people date.”

Kyungsoo hums, considering. “Do you want a reaction? I can give you one, if you want.”

Jongdae laughs, louder this time. “Nah. It’s fine. I’m just surprised, that’s all. And to answer your question, I don’t know either. I was hoping to figure it out while dating, but I just don’t have – _couldn’t_ ever have – the same type of feelings for her as she did for me, and it wasn’t fair for her. So I ended it.”

“Oh…” Kyungsoo’s now curious about something, but he’s not sure if it’ll be impolite to ask. “Can I ask you something? You don’t really have to answer if you don’t want to.”

“Sure.”

Jongdae’s reply comes too easy. It makes Kyungsoo think harder about how he should ask.

“…Why do you… date, if you’re aro?”

Kyungsoo’s pulling at the hangnails on his left hand without realising. The moment he notices, he makes himself stop. It’s a bad habit that he’s been trying to quit for years but it comes back whenever he’s stressed – which is almost always in architecture school – but he tries anyway. He ends up tucking his hands under his back so he won’t be tempted again. For a while as Kyungsoo lies on his hands, there’s only the sound of Jongdae shifting in the covers but no reply. Eventually though, Kyungsoo hears –

“I guess I was hoping for something still? Something more than friendship but not exactly a romantic relationship… I don’t know. It’s hard to pin down.”

 _It’s hard to pin down_. Kyungsoo wants to snort. Ain’t that the truth? He thinks about his ex, his feelings which apparently were there before they faded, contrasted against how he doesn’t really feel like looking for anyone right now. He feels like he understands, but at the same time, he thinks he doesn’t, not really. Not one to pretend he fully gets what Jongdae’s saying, what Kyungsoo offers is –

“Maybe it’s not the same, but sometimes I just want someone to hold without the hassle of a relationship.”

Jongdae’s reply is swift and vaguely amused. “So, like a fuck buddy, but for cuddling?”

“Maybe. I don’t know.” Kyungsoo finds the corner of his lips turning up, a sort-of smile. “Is that what you want? A fuck buddy? Since you’re not really into the romantic bits.”

Jongdae kicks the leg of his bed at that. “Never knew you were tactless like that, Do Kyungsoo,” is what he says, but his voice is easy, light. Kyungsoo reaches a hand out to try to smack him for it, but it’s half-hearted at best. He’s too lazy – sleepy, really – to move from his bed. Somehow, he falls asleep like that, waking up the next morning with a single arm hanging off the side of his bed, not sure if Jongdae ever said anything else afterwards.

 

 

 

Semester starts as usual, with Kyungsoo bored and without the appearance of Jongdae after studio to look forward to. He manages anyway, doing enough to not lag behind but doesn’t put in the extra hours the way he used to, opting instead for a proper eight hours of sleep every night. It lasts for a while, until Kyungsoo’s design scheme gets shot down in interim crit, and he ends up spending the next few weeks doing research, combing through projects, local and overseas, for precedent studies just so he can justify his proposal.

“I appreciate the work,” Kyungsoo’s tutor tells him, and he can already sense a ‘but’ coming after that. When it doesn’t, Kyungsoo prompts his tutor, only to get a crinkled smile.

“Well, if you really want to know, I don’t fully agree with your choice to make this project a public space for the old residents of the site instead of a commercial development. It doesn’t match with what the brief had set out; it doesn’t fulfill any of the requirements we’ve set.”

“Oh,” Kyungsoo says. He deflates a little, wondering if his lost sleep was even worth it. He hadn’t spent his nights on the studio tables for a while, but the moment he had lain on them last week, he remembered how terribly cold, hard and unforgiving they were. He’s not even sure why he gave up his bed for design _again_.

(He’s not that fond of architecture, though he supposes he doesn’t loathe it.)

“But anyway,” his tutor continues, oblivious to – or too well aware of – Kyungsoo’s internal conflict, “This is school, where we have time to learn and explore, and I can tell you have an inclination for serving the public, thinking of the little people. Your project doesn’t fit what the school wants you to design, but that doesn’t mean it’s wrong, or that it’s without merit. That’s why I said, I appreciate the work you’ve done to justify your design.”

“Oh…” Kyungsoo says again, but the same word carries a different meaning this time.

Oh. _Ohh._

Once his tutor had pointed it out, he’s not sure why he hadn’t realised it himself before. He’s always had an inclination for more public-centric projects. Those also tend to be the projects he willingly spent more time on, did better on, and got better grades on. Maybe the reason why he had bombed his second year design studio wasn’t because he didn’t spend enough time on it but because his heart wasn’t in it, hadn’t been sufficiently convinced of the need for the project to be so blatantly commercial.

(Funny how he uses the word _heart_ , when his heart was never really in architecture to begin with.)

It’s not what he had expected, especially not out of a mundane weekly review, but it’s _something_.

(Thinking of the little people – no pun intended despite Kyungsoo’s less-than-ideal stature – could be as good of a direction as any.)

 

 

 

“Maybe you can look at those…overseas trips where they build houses for people? Or like, a company that does community work, though I’m not sure if architectural firms like that even survive long enough to exist,” is what Jongdae suggests the next time they hang out. It’s already the end of semester, the summer holiday coming up again.

“Ha.” Kyungsoo takes a long sip of his Americano, not entirely weaned off his increased caffeine intake leading up to the weeks before his last crit. “I’m not sure I’ve thought so far.” He really hadn’t. He’s mostly just glad he made it through another semester, and despite the crit panel not being terribly convinced by his final presentation, he hadn’t felt that satisfied with his project in a while. It’s not great – he doesn’t think he’ll fail though he’s not exactly looking forward to getting his design grade – but it’s not horrible, at least.

“How’s your work?” he asks instead, trying for a change in topic.

“Hmm?” Jongdae bites on his straw, flattening it so much nothing comes up when he tries to sip. Kyungsoo attempts to stifle his snort.

(He fails. Jongdae glares at him, unamused.)

“So,” Kyungsoo tries again, “I didn’t have time to catch up with you at all –”

“All on you, by the way,” Jongdae interjects, “Don’t blame it on school because I always found time for you even when I was in fourth year –”

“But I do know you’re working somewhere because you have your dress pants on, so tell me, how’s your gap year going?” Kyungsoo finishes.

Jongdae cocks one brow, the curled corner of his lips turned up higher than they usually are. “You’re still as observant as ever huh?”

Kyungsoo just gives him a bored look. “Avoiding my question?”

“Nah,” Jongdae says, smile turning into a sneaky grin. “And you’re wrong, by the way. I didn’t have work. I had an interview.”

“An interview?”

“Yeah.” Jongdae looks at him properly, and his face suddenly turns a little serious. “I… applied for art school.”

Oh. _Oh_. Kyungsoo finds himself blinking at the neatly ironed creases of Jongdae’s sleek grey pants. “That’s…” He licks his lips. _That’s sudden_ , he thinks, but that’s not being fair. He was the one who hardly replied Jongdae’s texts and for all he knew, Jongdae could have been thinking about this since months ago. So instead, Kyungsoo takes a deep breath, says, “That’s great.”

Jongdae smiles, a little rueful. “I don’t know... I mean, it’s overseas and all, but they did agree to interview me after I sent them my portfolio, and I just…”

“It’s great, really,” Kyungsoo says, more firmly this time. “You wanted to do this all along, didn’t you?”

Jongdae nods, a small dip of his head.

“Then that’s great. You’re trying. That’s something.”

Jongdae laughs softly. “You suck at this.”

Kyungsoo glares at him, but it just makes Jongdae smile.

“Thanks for trying anyway,” Jongdae says.

There’s nothing Kyungsoo really ought to be thanked for, but he doesn’t ask Jongdae to clarify. Just shrugs.

“Sometimes trying is all we can do.”

Jongdae props his hands behind his neck, leaning back. “Such wise words you have, for a man so young.”

Kyungsoo snorts. Jongdae just grins, though his smile turns serious a moment later.

“It’s true though. ‘You’ll never know if you’ve never tried _’_ and all, right? So now at least I can say I’ve tried. All I have left to do is to wait for them to tell me how the interview went.” Jongdae casts a long look at Kyungsoo, before adding wrily, “And you know, if it fails, I still have fifth year of archi to look forward to.”

“Ha,” Kyungsoo gets out, “Sure.” He picks up an ice cube from his mostly finished glass, pops it into his mouth and wipes the residue of Americano onto his napkin. It doesn’t ease the lump that’s forming in his throat, but it’s something.

(Something being barely an indicator of anything, but it’s probably better than being completely lost.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not pertinent but I replaced Xiumin's name with Minseok. I don't know why I wrote Xiumin in the first chapter since I usually try to use real names if I can. Lol. Anyway, I hope the introduction of aro!Jongdae and questioning (?) Kyungsoo isn't too random. I do have reasons for it, though I don't know if the next (and hopefully last?) chapter will show it. This is the "other things they come to learn of themselves" I speak of in the summary ._.
> 
> Well, enough rambling. I'll love to hear what you think, feedback and constructive criticism are always welcome :) Feel free to talk to me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/cian1675) or [tumblr](https://stillcian1675.tumblr.com/) as well~


	3. No end in sight but.

Jongdae gets into art school. Kyungsoo finds out about this by chance, at the admin office on campus two weeks before the new semester starts.

“Oh hey, Kyungsoo.”

Jongdae’s leaning over a counter, a half-filled form in front of him. His voice sounds a little odd, or maybe it’s just Kyungsoo overthinking. They hadn’t really seen each other over the holidays again, Kyungsoo busy with his part time job, figuring out what to do for his final year thesis in all the other time in between. For some reason, he suddenly recalls what Jongdae had said the last time they met, that Kyungsoo’s the one who doesn’t put in effort to meet up. Maybe it’s really his fault that they’ve not seen each other all holiday.

“Hey,” Kyungsoo says instead, ignoring the thoughts in his head. “What are you here for?”

Jongdae fiddles with the pen in his hand. “Uh. I’m filling up the form to…drop out of school. They accepted me, the art school.” His words trail off, he shrugs slightly. There’s the tiniest smile on Jongdae’s lips, probably excitement at finally chasing his dreams, his passion, but it’s tinged with what Kyungsoo suspects is nervousness, a slight tightness in the corners of his mouth.

“Ah,” Kyungsoo says. “I see.” He runs his thumb over his forefinger’s nail, scratches the side instead of picking at it. Jongdae goes back to filling his form and it takes Kyungsoo some time before he manages to ask, “When… are you starting there?”

“Hmm? I’m flying in a month.” Jongdae’s brows scrunches, he taps his pen against the table before he looks up, straight at Kyungsoo. “Gotta get used to America and all, you know. So I’m going a little earlier.”

“Ah,” Kyungsoo says again, not avoiding Jongdae’s gaze but not meeting his eyes straight on either. “I see,” he mumbles, but like the last time he’d said it, he’s not sure he really gets it.

 

 

 

They have lunch together after Jongdae’s done with his form, mostly Jongdae’s idea though Kyungsoo had been expecting the question since he spotted Jongdae earlier. Eating together is comfortable, an activity they’ve always done, and it’s not very different today but at the same time, Kyungsoo can’t help but feel like there’s an odd background hum of something unsaid.

(Something he pretends he doesn’t notice, though he can’t help but wonder if Jongdae’s even aware, chatting away like he usually does.)

“We hardly see each other now even though we’re both in the same country, both in Seoul,” Jongdae points out without preamble somewhere between their meal and finishing off the side dishes with the drink he’d ordered. He doesn’t sound like he’s accusing Kyungsoo of anything but Kyungsoo’s not prepared for this conversation regardless.

(Not prepared for the guilt that weighs his chest.)

“There’s video chatting,” he manages to say after he gets over himself, stacking up the empty dishes together for the waitress. It’s mostly for something to do, something to focus on so he won’t dwell on the heaviness constricting his lungs. Jongdae polishes off the spinach, then adds that as the last plate on Kyungsoo’s assembled tower of five.

“Oh? You’re saying you’ll call me? Chat to me on video when I’m away? Jongdae’s voice is teasing, but there’s something in his eyes as well, something more serious. Kyungsoo finds it hard to look away.

“Maybe,” is all he says in the end, too many other options filtered away to the safest one. “If you call me I’ll probably answer.”

Jongdae stares at him unblinkingly for a moment, before he smiles.

“I’m holding you to that.”

Kyungsoo merely shrugs, but a little of the heaviness in his chest dissipates.

“Just don’t call me at weird times. America and Korea are almost half a day apart.”

Jongdae snorts.

“You’re in fifth year, _archi_ school.” A single brow raises, and Kyungsoo gets his point, though he’s not sure he wants to go back to his terrible school lifestyle even if it seems inevitable.

“Shut up.”

He kicks Jongdae’s shin under the table, and gets a kick back in return.

 

 

 

Despite Kyungsoo’s reluctance to revert to his terrible school lifestyle of sleeping at wee hours in the morning and forcing himself to wake up after just four hours of sleep, he finds himself getting back into the habit when his thesis gets tough because the only way to compensate for it is to work harder, even harder than he did before. It’s also partly because he chose urban conservation, spurred by his previous semester’s project to give the little people a chance, but he can’t figure out what site to choose, what issues to tackle, and everything’s a mess except the very vague, very general direction he has in mind. It sounds like his life – the problems he’s facing with choosing his thesis topic, the lack of a specific direction – except no one’s going to be grading his life at the end of the year, but a whole panel is going to judge his thesis project cobbled up in a year’s time.

(Basically, one is a problem that can wait, the other one is something that can’t. Kyungsoo’s not sure he knows which is which.)

On the day Jongdae flies off, Kyungsoo doesn’t get to send him off at the airport because he has interim crit, a vague semblance of his thesis topic slapped together just two nights before presentation despite having spent the whole two weeks prior researching and thinking. He only remembers to send Jongdae a message after crit is done, after he’s dragged his tired body back to the dorm, and after he’s had a quick shower. He falls asleep before he even puts his phone down properly, eyelids too heavy. When Kyungsoo wakes up, there’s a reply already.

_Is ‘safe flight’ the best you can do?_ , Jongdae had sent. It’s been fifteen hours since Kyungsoo’s message, and Jongdae could already be walking through the airport gates on the other side, could already be on the way to his dorm or could even be settled in already for all Kyungsoo knows. He only knows Jongdae took an overnight flight and he’s never been terribly good with keeping track of timings and dates in general, but it’s even worse when his mind’s still recuperating from the lack of sleep.

_Reached your dorm?_ , is what Kyungsoo sends instead, avoiding Jongdae’s question altogether. He doesn’t expect that to prompt a video call from Jongdae, but it does, and because he’d said he’ll pick up if Jongdae calls, Kyungsoo finds himself clicking on the green button even though he’s just woken up and hasn’t even washed his face.

“Hello,” Jongdae says, way too cheery for Kyungsoo’s half-asleep mind.

“Hey.”

Jongdae looks the same as he always does, and it’s funny how normal everything is, except they’re halfway across the world from each other now and video-chatting which they’d never had to do before and Kyungsoo’s only just woken up at four in the afternoon. Somehow, despite all that, Kyungsoo ends up talking to Jongdae for longer than he should, asking him how he’s settling in (“Alright, I guess.”), how his room is (“Bigger than your dorm room and I don’t have a roommate for now.”), and how he finds his university so far even though school hasn’t started (“It’s okay, there’s art sculptures in the main square and the gardens and just wow? It’s different.”). Kyungsoo ends up missing dinner for it, but he doesn’t quite regret that decision.

 

 

 

There’s a period in the middle of semester when Jongdae doesn’t call. _I’m drowning in assignments, help_ , he sends Kyungsoo, but when Kyungsoo probes further, he finds it’s the good kind of busy. _I just… I’m glad I came to art school_ , Jongdae messages some time after along with some photos of his half-done painting and a weird-ass sculpture for a different class, so Kyungsoo just reads his whiny text messages and offers snippets of his own life in return. There’s nothing much to be said about Kyungsoo’s thesis progress though, which is to say he still has no clue what he’s doing, but there’s a review coming up again and Kyungsoo’s forced to make some decision on his site. He ends up choosing a street near his childhood home – a place slated for redevelopment that threatens to remove the rich memories Kyungsoo has of the place and its pleasant bustle of activities – even though the street is barely two decades old and therefore not exactly important historically. The problem is, he has no clue if he’s trying to conserve this place based on mostly sentimental values and nostalgic whims of a teenage Kyungsoo or if there are actual merits to choosing to conserve this place for his thesis project.

_You’ll figure it out as you go along_ , Jongdae tells him, and Kyungsoo takes too long to type back a _I guess_. It would be better – more reassuring – to hear this from Jongdae instead of reading it off words on his phone screen, but Kyungsoo’s never been the one to call first, and he’s not sure he wants to start.

(He’s not sure he knows how to start.)

So he doesn’t.

Instead, Kyungsoo pushes it to the back of his mind, focuses on the fact that he should be putting in more effort on his project. He tells himself the greater-than-usual energy expended on his thesis is because his final year portfolio is important for when he applies for jobs, but sometimes in the short moments before he falls into dead sleep at three in the morning, Kyungsoo wonders if it’s also because he actually likes the topic he’s doing for once, likes the site even, problematic and seemingly insignificant as it is. He never gets to reach an answer before his fatigued brain shuts down.

 

 

 

The semester ends after another interim crit and holidays come around, but it’s not quite the reprieve it usually is with thesis still hanging over him like a cloud. Still, Kyungsoo manages to go home for a couple of weeks, and Chanyeol’s around too, so they hang out and that’s how Kyungsoo ends up accompanying Chanyeol to the hair salon on a Tuesday. Chanyeol wanted to try bleaching it blond and somehow, the aunties at the salon get Kyungsoo thinking about doing something different with his hair as well, bringing him stacks of hairstyle magazine to browse as he waits for Chanyeol. Chanyeol, of course, laughs about it, but like the good friend he is, he encourages Kyungsoo to try regardless. And now, in his bed hours after a dye job and a haircut decided on a whim, Kyungsoo’s answering the first video call from Jongdae in what’s been a while.

“Oh. Hey. How’re you doing? Not so busy now?”

“Uh,” Jongdae says, oddly reticent even though he had been the one to call. Then, as if the pause never happened, he smiles and continues, “I’m okay. It’s the holidays now, and somehow I made it through all the clashing deadlines. Finished my painting and sculpture and essays on art history and all.”

“That’s good,” Kyungsoo replies, settling deeper under his blanket to the background video of Jongdae walking around his own bedroom and the noises he makes flopping onto his bed. Propping his phone against his knees, Kyungsoo gets comfortable in a quieter fashion than Jongdae had, hoping he doesn’t end up falling asleep halfway through the call. It’s happened before, though of course, Jongdae’s pretty understanding about it. It’s not like Jongdae himself hasn’t drifted off during their calls either. Art school and architecture school aren’t all that different in that aspect. Kyungsoo’s about to ask if Jongdae’s doing anything since it’s his holidays, when Jongdae cuts in –

“Uh, did you… Is your hair red? And is that an undercut?”

Kyungsoo runs a hand through his fringe without thinking. “Y-yeah. I kind of did it on a whim. And it’s actually maroon.”

“It… looks good on you,” Jongdae says after a while, before Kyungsoo starts feeling a little self-conscious about it. Honestly, Kyungsoo’s still not sure how he feels about his hair or why he decided to do something with it at all, but he figures it’s just hair and if he hates it, he can buzz it off later and wait for it to grow out again. He tells Jongdae that while absently ruffling the longer strands that hang over his eyes, still wet from his shower earlier.

“That’s a good thing,” Jongdae says, fiddling with the hem of his t-shirt. It’s a school tee, plain white with the logo printed on the breast, already a little faded with wash and Kyungsoo’s not sure why he’s noticing something as mundane as this.

“What’s a good thing?”

“That, you know, this is something that you can just try to see if it works out and if you hate it, you can undo it with little consequences.”

Jongdae sounds more thoughtful than he should when they’re just talking about hair and there’s a distant look in his eyes. Or maybe, Kyungsoo’s just thinking too hard.

(Maybe, Jongdae had just spotted something off-screen, and that look meant nothing at all. Or maybe, he’s thinking about art school and his decision to switch to it from archi, mulling over whether he wants to talk about it. Or, it could be none of these things, and just something else altogether.)

Kyungsoo’s wondering if he should mention it, when Jongdae says –

“You know, I’ve been meaning to ask you this since I flipped through your sketchbook that time…”

Kyungsoo frowns, half from the sudden change in topic and half from trying to recall that incident. It had been ages ago and he can’t recall Jongdae seeing anything besides site sketches and manga characters in his sketchbook. He’s not sure why Jongdae’s bringing it up now.

“Yeah?”

Jongdae swallows, and Kyungsoo sees the bob of his Adam’s apple even over the blurry video quality of Jongdae’s front camera.

“Do you… I mean, I saw drawings of nude male bodies in your sketches so uhm, are you… like…”

Ah… Kyungsoo forgot he had drawn those. “Bi?”

Jongdae blinks, seeming surprised by Kyungsoo’s interruption.

“Yeah, are you… interested in guys, is what I meant,” Jongdae gets out, eyes not quite meeting Kyungsoo over the camera. “I… didn’t know… Uh, you’re bi?”

“I had a girlfriend before,” is what Kyungsoo says, until he realises it doesn’t say anything at all. So he adds, “I’ve had crushes on guys too.” He shrugs then, not sure what else to say until a thought occurs to him. “Why did you want to ask about this anyway?”

“Oh,” Jongdae hums, biting on his lower lip. “Nothing much, I guess? Just… I’m not exactly straight and it’s nice knowing I’m not the only one? I mean, the aro thing is already something but you know…”

Kyungsoo doesn’t know, but he doesn’t mention it. Instead he laughs a little, says, “Well, not that you even know Chanyeol but he’s my neighbor and he’s bi too, so it’s not that hard to find, really. Or well, maybe he’s pan, but I guess we’re all not straight.”

It’s a mess of words, a ramble that only sort of make sense in Kyungsoo’s head, but Jongdae nods, goes along with it, and before Kyungsoo realises, they’ve moved onto a different topic and then, somewhere along the way, he falls asleep on Jongdae without realising.

 

 

 

The next semester is a mess. Thesis finally comes throttling at full speed, and Kyungsoo’s juggling things he probably should have settled last semester like deciding what issues he wants to tackle with his site and design, trying to not give up on the rest of his theory modules with his thesis workload, and trying to figure out if he should start doing up a portfolio to send to prospective firms to land a job.

“I’m just, so tired, and the thought of putting together a ten page A4 portfolio of my best work sounds like too much to me,” he grumbles to Jongdae one night when Jongdae video-calls, closing his eyes when he spies the 4:44AM on his bedside table clock.

“Is the problem with the number of pages or the lack of time or…?”

Jongdae’s trying to be helpful, probably, but Kyungsoo’s currently too tired to care. Also, it doesn’t help that he’s been in a kind of lousy mood since the pressure of thesis starting increasing and really getting to him.

“I don’t know. Everything,” Kyungsoo says eventually, fully aware that he’s being unhelpful and possibly a brat. A less tired and more coherent Kyungsoo would be mortified that he’s being childish, especially when Jongdae looks tired himself, eyes a little droopy under dark eye circles, but the Kyungsoo of the moment is somewhat high from the lack of sleep and constant pressure that he can’t find it in himself to take back his words.

There’s a short moment when Jongdae doesn’t say anything, and Kyungsoo has to open his eyes to check if Jongdae’s fallen asleep – he hasn’t – but then, Jongdae’s saying hesitantly, “You know, if you want, you can send me your projects, all the images and write ups and I can help you layout your portfolio.”

“You… don’t have to,” Kyungsoo blurts out, suddenly more awake after hearing what Jongdae just said, just _offered_. He’s fully aware of how busy Jongdae is, knows that first year in art school is a lot of work as well, and this is possibly the nicest thing someone’s said to him in a while. “I was just complaining, you don’t have to mind me.” Kyungsoo pauses, worries his poor nails before saying, “But thank you for offering anyway.”

Jongdae smiles at that, tired and crinkled but it doesn’t detract from how obviously sincere he is. “I would totally do it, you know. I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t mean it.”

“Yeah, I know,” Kyungsoo says, and he thinks he does _know_ , for once. “Thank you. But I think I’ll do it myself. Or maybe I can do it after I’m actually done with thesis. There’s no rush to land a job immediately after graduation anyway.”

Jongdae hums at that, and after a while, they’re both obviously too tired to say anything more, but Kyungsoo doesn’t find the heart to end the video call. He falls asleep to the soft sounds of Jongdae’s snore over his earphones and dreams of thesis but somehow it isn’t as bad as dreams about school could be. Because, for some reason, someone in the dream is helping him through his deadlines, and that someone looks suspiciously like Jongdae even though Kyungsoo never quite sees his face.

 

 

 

Thesis is a blur. It ends somehow without Kyungsoo realising, too caught up in the actual details of meeting deadlines and finishing everything that he doesn’t even realise he’s done now. Done with presentation, done with justifying his rationale for choosing his issues and site, done with his crappy design, done with convincing people – a panel of five professional and well-dressed architects and professors who would honestly intimidate Kyungsoo if not for the fact that he was too tired to notice – that he hadn’t done a fucked up job of his project.

_You did it!_

Jongdae’s message cheers him up a little, makes Kyungsoo smile even though he’ll really prefer to hear his voice, but he’s waiting for his tutor to debrief, and he can’t go yet. He types back a smiley face. For a while, Kyungsoo doesn’t realise he’s been spoken to until someone nudges his shoulder, and his tutor’s saying –

“…good job with your thesis. I actually have an opportunity for designing and building homes for the underprivileged –”

And Kyungsoo’s a little lost because he hadn’t been paying attention. When he asks his tutor to repeat, he realises he’s being offered an opportunity to go overseas with his tutor for half a year to design homes for a town that recently encountered a flood, and he has to blink a few times before everything sinks in.

“…me?”

The fact that it’s unpaid volunteer work doesn’t seem to be an issue as much as the fact that his tutor is asking _him_ , of all people.

“Yes, of course, you, Kyungsoo. I thought your project really showed heart. Your concern for social heritage is heartwarming, especially given how little importance traditional conservation practices places on such sites, and your thesis clearly demonstrated that you are a designer who’s aware of more nuanced issues than even some working architects –”

He’s flattered but also caught off-guard, and Kyungsoo ends up doing what he’s always done.

 

 

 

“You what?”

Jongdae seems more surprised by the fact that Kyungsoo had told his tutor he’ll need some time to think about it than the fact that Kyungsoo’s taken the initiative to video-call him for once.

“I… I’m just not sure I know what I want to do,”Kyungsoo confesses, and he rubs his eyes, turning to his side on his bed. “I mean, the offer is nice but I’m not sure that’s what I’m looking for? It’s kind of funny because here I was waiting for thesis to be over so I can figure out what I want to do, but now that it is, I am literally still as clueless as ever.” Once the words are out, Kyungsoo realises how true they ring and how he’s been trying to ignore the facts for too long, burying himself in school work to distract himself. Except, now that he’s done with school and is just waiting for his results, he’s back to being undistracted and the feeling of being lost has only intensified. Sighing, Kyungsoo rolls over so he can look at his phone screen better.

Jongdae doesn’t answer immediately, but when he does, it’s with a puzzled frown. “I thought you were interested in these kinds of things though? Didn’t you mention doing a similar kind of project last year, helping people and all?”

Kyungsoo blows a puff of air, notices his fringe is now way too short to flop the way it did when he had that maroon undercut. It’s back to black now, has been for a long time, kept a short buzz because he had been too busy to care.

“I… I don’t know. Like I said, I don’t hate it, but I’m not sure if I want to keep doing it.” It’s shockingly similar to how he feels about architecture in general, or even his life, and he closes his eyes because he doesn’t know what else to do. He’s even tired of using being tired as an excuse and just –

“Hey, Kyungsoo.”

“Yeah?” Jongdae’s voice breaks him out of his thoughts for a while, and when he opens his eyes, it’s to Jongdae’s concerned expression, too close to his screen and Kyungsoo can see the little pimples that dot Jongdae’s cheeks from stress and bad eating habits of a student swarmed by work.

“It’s okay, you know. That you’re lost.”

Kyungsoo laughs before he realises he’s doing it.

“No, I mean it.” Jongdae looks away, and then, in a smaller but more serious voice, he says, “To be really honest, I’m here chasing my dreams, and I should be having the time of my life right now, but I’m just as lost as I was when I was back in Seoul.” He says it with a small laugh, and now it’s Kyungsoo frowning.

“Why?” he asks before he thinks through what he’s really asking.

“Why?” Jongdae repeats, making a face like he’s considering the question properly, eyebrows knitted in concentration. In the end, he just puffs out his cheeks, exhales, and says, “I don’t know either. I guess it doesn’t help that I’m in a foreign place, a stranger and alone, but really, I’m also just scared that even though I’m trying, that it won’t be enough, you know? It’s scary to think, what if I try but fail?”

“Oh.”

Kyungsoo thinks this over, and it’s funny how he’d have thought Jongdae would be having an easier time when he at least has a direction – a goal he’s pursuing, a passion – but that doesn’t seem to be the case. It should be disconcerting, realising this, but in some way, it’s oddly comforting as well, knowing he’s not the only one feeling lost. Propping his chin on his hand, Kyungsoo stares at Jongdae over the screen, just the two of them looking at each other without a word, breathing, blinking, until he thinks –

“Maybe… it’s scarier to have never tried?”

His voice comes out soft, _unsure_ (tentative, _useless_ ), but Jongdae smiles, just a little. It’s filled with what is clearly trepidation, but also, Kyungsoo realises now, _hope_.

“Yeah. I’ll think so. I hope so.”

_I hope so_ , Kyungsoo thinks, and he wishes with all his heart that it’s true.

 

 

 

When his results eventually come out a few weeks later, Kyungsoo’s not surprised to find he’s passed, but he is sort of surprised to discover that he did better on thesis than expected. Still, when he calls his mum to let her know, what he ends up saying after telling her his results isn’t exactly what he had planned.

“Mum, I was thinking… of going on a backpacking trip before I start looking for work.” _Before I start figuring out what I want to do with my life_ , is what Kyungsoo really means, because he’s not sure architecture is the path for him even though he doesn’t have any other clue, but he doesn’t say that. Holding his breath, Kyungsoo waits for her reply. He’s not sure what he’d been expecting, but he definitely didn’t think his mum’s reaction would be to tell him she had been wondering when he’ll actually ask.

“Wait, why did you think I wanted to go backpacking?” He hadn’t even known he had that idea in his head until the words had just spilled from his lips.

His mum laughs, and Kyungsoo kind of misses how it sounds. He’s not been home the whole semester and it feels like it’s been too long now.

“It’s not backpacking specifically but I just thought maybe you’ll want to try different things while you’re young? I knew I did when I was your age.”

Oh. His next words are out before he realises, revealing his unspoken fears which are louder now than ever because he’s freshly graduated and everything seems even more directionless than when he was in archi school, if that’s even possible. “Even though things may go bad? Even though… things may _fail_?”

His mum laughs again, but her words are soft. “Even then. You can’t live a life without making mistakes, and not everything has to go according to plan. In fact, very little in life goes according to plan. But sometimes, all you can do is try, regardless.”

She probably doesn’t meant it as advice, but Kyungsoo keeps that thought to himself the whole night, staring at his phone until he caves and dials the number he’s only ever called once before.

“Jongdae?”

Jongdae’s not wearing a shirt when he picks up, and his bare shoulders are damp. Kyungsoo swallows, wonders if he just came out of a shower.

“Oh, hi Kyungsoo, congrats on graduating!” Jongdae yells as he settles on his chair, not bothering with a shirt at all and Kyungsoo wonders if this is how comfortable they’ve become.

“Hi, and thanks?” Kyungsoo manages to say with as much enthusiasm as he can, which isn’t that much, but Jongdae’s cheer is infectious. And then, even though he still has no idea what he’s doing and probably won’t anytime soon, he decides to go ahead and ask what’s been on the back of his mind before he chickens himself out of it.

“This might seem a bit random and sudden but, I was thinking of taking a backpacking trip, just go around wherever on a whim and this is probably a bad idea but I just...I was wondering if you’ll like to join me? Or if it’ll be presumptuous of me to try going near where your school is as one of the stops?”

Kyungsoo’s still chicken, and he could say more, say things like he hasn’t stopped thinking about Jongdae for a while now, hasn’t stopped since Jongdae found his way into his life without warning and how he’s been keeping these thoughts at the back of his mind because that’s what he does. And Kyungsoo could say more, say how, now that they’re properly friends, he’s started wondering if he wants… something more. They’re comfortable together – Jongdae’s always there to listen to him even when they’re both busy and tired and Kyungsoo worries about him too, in his own way – and ever since he found out properly that Jongdae’s bi (but also aro), he’s been sort of secretly _wondering_.

(Wondering _what_ exactly, Kyungsoo isn’t prepared to probe or find out yet, but he’s definitely been wondering.)

At the same time, however, Kyungsoo’s aware of just how lost he is with his own life and he’s worried that he might just be hanging on to Jongdae for some semblance of direction, which would be grossly unfair, whether as a friend or something else. That was why he hadn’t wanted to say anything but he’d just gone and said it anyway, in a roundabout manner and now –

“You’re not being presumptuous,” Jongdae cuts in, and Kyungsoo thinks he is, he very much is, but then, Jongdae adds, “Just so you know, I’ll love to go on a trip with you. I’m a little surprised you asked actually, but I’ve been wondering for a while now, if I should invite you over during the holidays, show you my campus…” and the way Jongdae ducks his head like he’s embarrassed makes Kyungsoo pause. He’s not sure what he had had been expecting when he’d called Jongdae but now he’s kind of glad he did it, messy and unplanned and incoherent as it is, because he hadn’t expected this at all.

(Hadn’t expected the weird feeling in his stomach either, the way Jongdae’s ears flush, or how his own cheeks are a little warm.)

“Oh-kay, we can do that. I don’t mind having a tour of your campus,” Kyungsoo gets out, the only words that come to his mind at the moment, even though he thinks he sounds lame. It’s not really an answer – at least, not the answer he’s searching for, not yet – and Kyungsoo’s still as lost as ever about his life in general, what he wants to do, but maybe, just maybe, he can be okay with this.

(Maybe, he can learn to be okay with this.)

“We can figure out what to do one step at a time,” Jongdae offers, and Kyungsoo nods.

“Yeah, let’s do that.” Kyungsoo agrees after the words sink in. Jongdae smiles, a wide smile that stretches his nose, brings his cheekbones high against the crescent of his eyes, and Kyungsoo finds himself repeating, “Let’s do that,” with more conviction this time. He’s no longer just thinking about the trip, and maybe, nothing’s really changed and everything’s still uncertain at the moment, but maybe, just maybe, that’s okay.

And maybe, Kyungsoo can learn to be more hopeful.

 

 

 

(In the face of all things uncertain, there’s still no end in sight, but perhaps, what we need isn’t an end to be able to find ourselves. Maybe, all we need is to recognise that it’s okay to be lost, to be constantly searching, and that things will eventually figure themselves out one step at a time.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I struggled with trying to end this properly, and I hope it doesn't come off as too cliche or too neat. Real life is hardly that simple and as a slice of life fic, I wanted to try to capture that with an ending that leaves things open. But at the same time this is still a story so I felt like there should be some conclusion, and this was the best I could come up with. Thank you for reading, and I would appreciate knowing what you think of the story ^^ Any constructive critique would be great as well! You can also talk to me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/cian1675) or [tumblr](https://stillcian1675.tumblr.com/) :)
> 
> Side note, I enjoy this verse's Kyungsoo and Jongdae very much and I kind of want to write their relationship/frienddship/romance (?) itself as a separate story especially since Jongdae's aro and Kyungsoo's kind of emotionally repressed/distant/detached but uhm, we'll see. It might be a second part or something, if I ever do that. Let me know if this story is something you might be interested in seeing ^^


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